-Lovino-

Somehow, the trio managed to drag Lovino and Matthew kicking and screaming (well, Lovino kicking and screaming) into Antonio's car. It was nice, but not as flashy as one would expect it to be. While Antonio was busy throwing their bags in the back, Lovino called shotgun. He felt sorry for Matthew, but there was no way in hell he was sitting next to those weirdos. Although, it looked like Gilbert had the situation under control, glaring at Francis when he got to close. Matthew had damn near plastered himself to the albino's side, blushing fiercely. Was that what he looked like when he blushed?

That was so damn embarrassing; what the ever-loving fuck?

Meanwhile, Antonio prattled on as he drove, pointing out things and giving a brief overview of things he found interesting. Most of it was just ridiculous fucking chatter in his opinion, though.

"Oh, I love that store! I usually shop there if one of my clothes gets torn or worn down or something like that."

"This café has the most amazing churros! It's run by this old lady, and they're always so fresh!"

"This market is the best if you're buying fresh fruits and veggies! Oh, and spices as well…I should stop by there soon, I think I'm running low on a few things…"

"We were banned from that bar, I think. That one, or the one two blocks down…either way, it wasn't that great anyway. Right guys?"

And one thing about Spain was that everyone drove so…leisurely. If he had driven like this in Italy, he would have been run off the road and cussed out in a heartbeat. But they all drove as if it was permanently Sunday morning, and the impatient honking he was used to was absent. And Antonio; well, Antonio…

His accent was sexy, all right? Damn, he was fucking pathetic. Who was he, Feliciano? Where did his manliness go?

Antonio didn't seem to even notice it, but as he started naming off the familiar towns and places he wanted to show them, his accent grew more and more prominent until he was slipping into Spanish every other sentence. He pronounced the names with no hesitation; the syllables rolling off of his tongue naturally and fluently. He was damn near squirming in his seat at this point. He tried to keep up his air of bored, irritated indifference, but from the way Antonio glanced at him from the corner of his eye and smiled that slow, killer smile, he was doing a pretty shitty job of it.

Fuck, how much longer did they have?

-Lovino-

About thirty minutes later, they drove through an ornate gate onto a stone pathway made of cobblestone instead of dirt or gravel. It twisted its way up a hill, and the house at the end of it was fucking astounding.

"Fuck…"

"Wow…"

Both Matthew and he stared up at it. It was like a fucking castle. It was something you'd see nobility live in in the 1600's; majestic, daunting, and full of grandeur. He had to take some damn photos, because that, that right there, was a work of fucking art. This was why Spain was considered to be one of the artistic capitals of the world. Because even all the way back then, they had put so much emphasis on the elegance and beauty of something, no matter how large or small. And this house was fucking proof.

Antonio merely parked his car near the front doors, and hopped out to retrieve their bags; making his way over to the entrance. Lovino hopped out and followed.

"This place is gigantic, Antonio! Even if you are a celebrity, how the fuck did you afford this?"

"I didn't buy it, Lovi. I inherited it, and everything within, from mi abuelo. It's been in mi familiafor generations."

Lovino scrunched his eyebrows. But, what about Antonio's dad? How could you just skip a generation like that?

He was debating whether or not to say something, but Antonio had already made his way over to the now open front doors. He half expected a butler or servant or something to pop up, but Antonio merely made his way down the front corridor, humming to himself.

Lovino couldn't help but gape at all of the antique heirlooms that were littered throughout the entryway. From Matthew's small gasps, neither could he. He was almost nervous, afraid he'd knock over a fragile item worth his weight in euros if he wasn't careful. Antonio glanced behind him, and laughed.

"Don't be so nervous, Lovi. I've already knocked over plenty of expensive things when I was younger, running around this place!"

He flushed.

"Fucker! Don't act so nonchalant about destroying precious works of art!"

"It's only stuff, Lovi."

Lovino scrunched his eyebrows as Antonio's tone flattened, and his volume lowered. The tense silence that followed only lasted a minute, but it seemed to stretch out for hours. They reached the large spiral stairwell, and Antonio turned and stretched his arms outwards, his grin back as if it had never had left.

"Anyway! Welcome to my home, you guys! Mi casa es su casa, and all that good stuff! The kitchen is straight down that way, and the main rec room is connected to that. There's another living room upstairs. There's plenty of bedrooms, so just pick the one you like best. If you take a right down the hall from the kitchen, it leads out the patio. Everything important is in the center of the house, so don't worry about getting lost."

Lovino groaned. Was that a possibility? Of fucking course, in a house this size. Damn it.

"We'll branch out tomorrow and Sunday. Tonight, we're going to stay local. Well, sort of~"

"And what do you mean by 'sort of', you bastard?"

"Well, we're going to eat at Francis' restaurant, and then we're going clubbing at Gil's place!"

Lovino twisted his face up. He'd never really had a 'Friday Night Out' before. Clubbing? He'd never gone.

"Um…I don't think-"

"Come on Mattie! The awesome that is me owns the club. You'll be fine!"

"B-but…"

"Don't worry, mon ami!"

"Um-I-I don't have any clubbing clothes! Darn."

Lovino narrowed his eyes. Did he really think he was going to leave him all alone in this? Nice try, you little asshole. He didn't think so.

"I have some extra. We're about the same height, so it should fit you."

Matthew glared.

"Great."

"Don't mention it pal."

Gilbert was already exclaiming about how awesome the night was going to be, and Francis threw an arm around his shoulders and agreed. Antonio threw an arm around his other side, and then they all started chanting 'ole', after every sentence. Lovino groaned. If this was how they were while they were sober, who knows what they were like intoxicated?

Matthew shook his head and face-palmed, while Lovino was seriously contemplating walking back out the door.

This night was going to be a clusterfuck.